Better Than Revenge
by lexieconextreme
Summary: After the British Bitch of Letters shoots Sam, Dean and Mary return home in time for him to say goodbye. When Billie takes Sam, Mary tries to convince Dean not to go after the woman who murdered his brother. (I'm bad at summaries, it's better than it sounds, I promise.) T for Dean's language


**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Taylor Swift, or any of the characters within. Forgive me for writing this all those (three?) years ago.**

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Dean was so angry, it hurt. Although, the pain might not have been from the anger.

That fucking hunter! Oh, no. She wasn't a hunter. The bitch was some British Woman of Letters. She killed Sam.

No, the pain wasn't from the anger. It was coming from Sam. Dean's heart ached. Not two hours ago, he'd been wandering through the woods, looking for a way out, when he found someone: his mother, Mary. So not only did he have to deal with the arrival of his newly un-unalived mother, Dean had to deal with the death of his precious little brother.

Dean was almost confused. How could Sam be dead? That didn't seem right. In fact, it seemed impossible.

Dean knew that the both of them had died dozens of times before, even if they didn't remember. He also knew that the Reaper who had supplied the brothers with the soul bomb, Billie, had said that the new Death wouldn't allow them to come back again. She had promised that much.

There was no getting Sam back now. Dean couldn't do anything for Sam, but he _could_ do something to the bitch who had done this. After all, there was nothing the older Winchester did better than revenge.

After telling his mom nearly everything since she died on the way back to the bunker, they had walked in expecting to find Sam and Cas. Instead they found a woman standing over a bleeding-out Sam with a gun in her hand. Dean had whipped out his gun, and would have shot the woman.

Mary stopped him. She held out her arm as if physically holding her son back. "Who are you?" Her voice shook with barely suppressed anger. Something in her tone inspired a feeling of danger, hinting at her hunter upbringing.

The woman had stared at them for a moment before answering. "I was sent from the Men of Letters, London extension, to execute the Winchesters."

Her eyes roamed over Mary, in the same white night dress as the night she died, to Dean, who was still holding a gun on her.

"Why?" Dean barked. "Why were you sent to kill us? What did we do?" The woman looked him coldly in the eyes, her hands still in the air. "What haven't you done? The Council has grown tired of the two of you. This is what? The third- the fourth time you've almost destroyed the world? The Council doesn't want to take the chance that the Winchesters won't screw it up again."

"Even if that _does_ happen, who's to say they won't stop again? Like my boys have every time the world's about to end," Mary said.

"The Council also doesn't want to take the chance that the Winchesters will die before they can save it. So to prevent them from putting the world on the brink of destruction for their-" her lips twisted into a disgusted smirk " _-relationship_ , they're going to be eliminated before they even get that far."

"Leave." Mary stepped forward and the woman stepped backward. "You leave, right now, and you never come back. You tell your bosses that if they ever come near me or my boys again. . ." she didn't finish, but was sure to leave her threat open.

The woman moved carefully, trying not to trip over Sam and anger Dean into pulling the trigger. Once this was accomplished, the woman nearly ran up the stairs and out the door.

"Sam," Dean choked. He dropped his gun as he made his way over to his little brother. Mary ran over as well, and pulled her youngest son's head into her lap.

"Hey, Sammy? You remember me? I know it's been a long time, but I'm here now. I won't leave again, I promise." The whispered words of comfort weren't very comforting, especially to Mary. A whisper was all she could manage.

Dean clutched Sam's hand. "Hey, Sammich. Can you hear me? Please tell me you can."

Sam looked confused for a moment, trying to sort out the new info in his brain. His entire face brightened up. "She's alive? She's really here?" Sam looked up at his mother. "It's you?" Mary smiled, still crying. "Yeah, Sammy. It's me."

"G-good. I don't wa-ant to be alone."

"Sam, what are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"Isn't it obvious, Dean? I'm dying. We-e can't stop it, can't change it. Billie said there would be no coming back this time. I'm actually relieved. Can you believe that? I don't want to have to come back again." Sam coughed, blood coming up his throat and running down his chin.

"No, Sammy. You can't leave me alone! What am I going to do with you gone, I don't want to be alone!"

Sam stared at him as if he were an idiot. Dean's moose of a brother was dying, yet he could still muster the strength to give him the best bitchface in the universe. Dean almost smiled at the thought.

"Dean, you have Mom, now. You can't tell me you'll be alone, because the person we've been chasing for almost thirty years is here for you now. You have Cas, too."

Dean spluttered. "What do you mean, "I have Cas"? What's that even supposed to mean?" Sam grinned at him.

"It means if you don't ask his feathery ass out by the end of the week, I'm going to haunt you two for the rest of your life."

Sam laughed, then coughed up more blood. He looked at Dean, then over his shoulder, like there was someone else there. Dean turned, but saw no one. He looked back at Sam, who stared back grimly. "Billie's waiting Dean. She'll allow me to say goodbye, but then I have to go."

Dean allowed tears to slip down his cheeks. "No, Sam. You can't go!"

"I've got to, Dean. I'm sorry." Sam turned to Mary, who'd been silent for a while, "Bye, Mom. I love you. It was good knowing you for all of six months and five minutes."

Mary finally smiled. "I love you too, Sammy. I loved all of my six months and five minutes with you."

Sam looked back over Dean's shoulder, at Billie. "I'm ready. I'm ready to go with you."

"Goodbye, Dean. I'll tell everybody we know up there you said hi."

Sam's head fell back, his eyes closing and skin already losing warmth.

"No," Dean choked. No, his little brother couldn't be gone. He couldn't be. But Sam was really, truly gone. Dean sat back on his heels, still holding Sam's hand, and made a silent promise.

 _I'll ask him out, Sam. Because you told me to._

Dean and Mary were driving to Bobby's old house. Behind the old, burnt down shell of a place, was the family graveyard. After burning all of the bodies, John, Henry, Charlie, and of course Bobby were all buried behind the house.

As Mary and Dean stood watching the flames from Sam's burial in fire, Mary finally spoke. "Dean, promise me you won't go after that woman."

"Why shouldn't I? _That bitch killed my little brother_."

"I think you're forgetting something Dean. Your little brother, happens to also be my youngest son. And I'm asking you, as your mother and his, please don't go after her. You're better than this. You're better than revenge."

"You know something, Mom? I'm really not."

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 **8/26/18 EDIT: UH. UH. UH.**

 **I'm sorry to everyone for writing this. I fixed it up as best I could, but this isn't getting better. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, even you, dude who told me to fuck off in the reviews. Nice knowing you.**

 **So, now I'm going to plug. My friend, TheDerpHowlsAtMidnight, is doing a The Walking Dead RP (trying to ignore the irony) on a site called Discord. If you're interested in rping with us, please rp me or Derp!**


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